


Five Things That Never Happened to Damon and Pythias

by Dhobi ki Kutti (dhobikikutti)



Category: Louisa May Alcott - Little Women series
Genre: Yuletide, challenge:New Year Resolutions, recipient:afrai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-07
Updated: 2005-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-03 17:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhobikikutti/pseuds/Dhobi%20ki%20Kutti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The elements that can shape us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things That Never Happened to Damon and Pythias

**Author's Note:**

> Written for afrai in the New Year Resolutions Challenge 2005

#### Earth

 

It was a bitterly sunny day.

 

As he stood staring at his shadow, Dan could feel warm wind tickle the hair against his collar. If he looked up, he would see a bright blue sky barely dotted with clouds so white they made a mockery of the dirty brown remnants of snow that lingered under the dark corners of the pine trees.

 

He did not look up.

 

Under his feet the first bedraggled stubs of grass lay sodden and limp from his restless shuffling. Most of the ground was more mud than grass; a pauper's graveyard seldom blooms.

 

The contents of this coffin, at least, were not to sort to provide much fertilizer.

 

He has been so thin, by the end.

 

So weak that the fiddle was too heavy.

 

Dan wished he had been able to play it, play something for Nat, who had died without hearing the sort of music he deserved, who died surrounded by only the rough, clumsy sounds that Dan was capable of making. The sound of Dan growling at the doctor who had at last, far too late for any usefulness, agreed to make a house call. The sound of Dan snapping at the first sight of Nat's suppressed tears. The sound of Dan bumping into the edge of the bed and stumbling over the two legged stool that he used to squat on at night, watching over Nat like a gargoyle - hewn of stone and good for nothing, and an ugly devil, to boot.

 

At least Dan had been able to get the fiddle back from Nicolo. That was something.

 

He remembered a rainy evening. He was heading towards the presses to pick up the evening lot of newspapers, and he saw Nat, standing forlornly at a crossing, in danger of getting run over by the omnibuses he was staring helplessly at.

 

"Hullo! Going for a holiday, are we?" he had asked. And then Nat had shaken his head and mumbled something about a place a gentleman had told him about.

 

"What sort of gentleman?" Dan had asked, his suspicions deepening as Nat told him what a fine sort of gentleman he had seemed to be, ever so kind and helpful, and quite handsome too, and fond of music, it seemed. He had given him the address of some big house out in the country, "a quiet place, he said," Nat had added hopefully. "Ever since father.... Since Nicolo took away father's violin, there seems such an awful clatter about everywhere."

 

Dan had brusquely sliced open the letter Nat had tucked away inside his coat and after he had read it, he had laughed shortly and crumpled it up. "Jo and Teddy," he had sneered. "I can imagine the sort of place they have for a pretty little orphan like you."

 

Nat had flushed, and mumbled something about not being so stupid as all that, and then brightened when Dan had said, "Come on, here's what. I'll chuck this lot of papers, seeing as how the rain doesn't seem to be letting off, and we'll go talk to old Nicolo. Seems to me you need to learn how to stand up for yourself, Nat. Your father wouldn't have wanted you to be a sissy, would he?"

 

And Nat has faltered for a moment, but then Dan had tugged him along the sidewalk with a companionable shake, and they had both laughed about the first time Dan had taught Nat how to punch, good and proper.

 

Not that Nat ever cared to fight.

 

Dan should have realized that, should have guessed when the coughing grew worse, that Nat would not try to fight the winter out, would not rage against the dreary cellar, hot with frustration as Dan had, but would instead crumple up meekly. "It's not like it really matters, anyway, is it, Dan," he had whispered one night, when the snow dripped through the side of the ceiling, and the boys were both huddled under one blanket. "It's not like I'm important enough to matter to anyone. And maybe in heaven, my father..."

 

"Guess that's the biggest lot of moonshine I've ever heard," Dan had grunted. "And anyway, you'd think you'd matter to me more than you would to some frilly bunch of angels." Nat had kept quiet then, but the hitch in his breath had made Dan growl, "Here, now, you know all that sniffling with just set you coughing again. Hush up!" And Dan had roughly thrust his hand against Nat's trembling shoulder.

 

Nat had fumbled for Dan's hand, and that night, though he shivered and coughed fit to wake the dead, he had not let go of it.

 

Dan remembered how pale that hand had looked, as he forced it into the sleeve of the one good jacket that Nat had kept 'to go to church in'. The undertaker had let him take his time, pleased, no doubt, to have someone do his job for him. Dan knew how hard Nat had tried to 'stay nice'.

 

"Poor pretty little thing," Dan heard the charity lady whisper, the lady who took a ghoulish interest in mourning for all the city paupers at their impersonal funerals.

 

As the clods of earth began to thump on top of the coffin, Dan heard a spring lark sing.

 

He stared harder at the blurring mud.

#### Fire

 

"Oh, don't be such a little prig, Tommy. It's just beer."

 

Dan was getting impatient with both of them. Silly little boys who were too afraid and nervous to enjoy themselves, and made it impossible for him to cut loose either. Nat looked flushed and heavy-lidded, Dan could tell that he wanted to sleep, but when he passed him the cigar with a challenging look, Nat loyally struggled through another puff.

 

Suddenly Tommy started. "What was that?" It was nothing, but Tommy started giggling at the fright he had given himself, and being more than a little silly with sleep and beer, it took a good shake from Dan to shut him up. After that, he became sullen, and since Dan was in no mood to talk the normally-cheerful lad out of it, he scowled and dismissed them with a curt, "you children might as well get to bed, seeing as how you can't keep up like real men."

 

Tommy obediently stalked off, and was soon lying flat on his stomach, his feet over his pillow as he snored in a stupor from which he would wake bleary-eyed and woolly-headed the next morning. But Nat paused to hand Dan the cigar back, flinching when Dan snatched it impatiently out of Nat's awkward hold and stubbed it on the candle stand.

 

"I'm sorry I'm not good company like your other friends," Nat said dully.

 

Dan jerked his head. "What friends? Chaps I used to mess about with wouldn't have given a da... would have let the devil take me as long as I paid up when I was supposed to."

 

Nat stood there dumbly, looking even more miserable.

 

"Oh, don't be an ass. Get to bed, now." Dan muttered, and as he turned to clear the nearly empty bottle and the cards away from his bed, he heard the sounds of Nat fumbling his way out of his clothes. Dan scowled. It was easy for Nat, staying here being cosseted and cuddled over by old Mother Bhaer and all the women - everyone felt kindly towards, sweet, pretty Nat. And Nat never missed the old life. He never thought of long tramps down dusty roads, or swinging from the sides of a box car, or messing about in a good brawl that brought the blood in your mouth.

 

"I don't know why I stay round here," Dan muttered. And then as he turned to extinguish the dark lantern, he saw Nat, still awake, staring dreamily at him.

 

"I'm so glad you came, Dan, Plumfield was always the most awfully jolly place, but it's ever so much more like home now that you're here." Nat said all this lying splayed out on his bed in a most unnatural manner. Dan knew Nat slept curled up, like a kitten. Shrugging, he walked across to Nat's bed and tugged the sheet up around him. "It's alright, I guess."

 

Nat's hand reached out and held onto Dan's brown, rough paw. "You won't leave, will you? You won't make them send you away?"

 

Dan slouched closer to the bed, looking down blankly. Nat's fingers were white, and slender, and they looked like a woman's as they lay tangled together with his own, but his palm could feel warm calluses against his skin. And for all his slightness, Nat's mouth was not like some rosy-lipped girl's, but was clear-cut and firm, just like the rest of him.

 

"Guess I can mess about a fair bit, here," Dan finally said.

 

Nat smiled sleepily in reply. As he released Dan's hand to turn over into his normal huddle, his fingers brushed against Dan's thigh.

 

Dan stood still as though he had been burned.

#### Water

 

Dan put his arm around Nat's shoulder, and started walking slowly back towards the house, leaving the others to fidget awkwardly around Jack and Ned. As they passed the brook, he sighed.

 

"Do you want to stop for a bit?" Nat asked softly. "Guess I don't mind, the foot is giving me a jolly old time of it," Dan grinned crookedly, but Nat looked at him with the serious, sorrowful expression that had made him so uncomfortable these last few weeks that he had preferred to run away for a solitary tramp in the woods. Dan sat down at the water's edge, and after a moment, began to unlace his boot. Nat squatted beside him.

 

"... Dan. Dan?"

 

"Well?"

 

"If the fellows don't stop, we could always go away together. I was too scared to run away when they thought it was me, but with you looking out for me I wouldn't mind anything. I'm awfully big now, too, so I reckon I won't be falling sick all the time like I used to. We could go someplace nice, have a real adventure, like you always talk about."

 

Dan gave a short laugh. "A fine pair we'd be, sneaking off in the night like the thieves everyone thinks we are."

 

"No they don't! Well, I know Daisy doesn't, at least, and I told her you were my friend and she agreed and said it was good of me to not let you knock about on your own like you wanted to."

 

Dan glanced at him, and then asked carelessly, "So you'd miss her if we ran away, then, wouldn't you?"

 

Nat flushed. "Well, I suppose so, and Mrs. Bhaer, and Teddy and Demi too. But it wouldn't matter, would it? Cause we'd be together. And I can't stand you being this lonesome, Dan."

 

"I'm alright."

 

"No you're not. I can tell, Dan, when you come back from one of those tramps of yours you look just as alone as when you start out. Why don't you let me come with you, Dan? I'd stay quiet enough, I reckon. I don't ever want to bother you."

 

Something desperate clawed its way through Dan's heart. "S'pose that's easy enough for you to say, you ain't got to live with what I do."

 

Nat caught at his sleeve, tugging him until he had to turn to face him, "With what? The money? Oh Dan, you know I don't care about that! I wouldn't care if you killed somebody, you are always so good and kind to me, it would be wrong for me to ever feel any other way!"

 

Dan jerked his sleeve out of Nat's grasp and snapped fiercely, "How do you feel about me, then?"

 

And before his blazing gaze, Nat paused, blinked, and faltered. "I don't know what..."

 

Suddenly Dan was quiet, in a way he hadn't been before. "No, no of course not. I'm just raving, as usual. I shouldn't have stayed. It's all wrong for me. And if I leave now it'll clear things up. Let the fellows get on with their business, and they'll leave you alone. I should have done it a long time ago, except..."

 

Dan stood up. Nat was looking at him with horrified tears in his eyes. "... except?"

 

Sighing, Dan turned fumbled with his boots. "Nothing," he said roughly. "Tell Teddy I said goodbye, won't you, and Mrs. Bhaer... no, she'll understand anyhow."

 

As he stood up in the direction of Plumfield's gates, he felt a sudden rush as Nat embraced him, throwing him off balance with the force of his grasp. "Oh Dan, won't you let me come with you?" Nat cried, and then Dan, in a frenzy of misery, flung him off. "Leave off, Nat. I'd much rather be alone than tied down to you."

 

And as he said it, and walked off, he could taste the salt on his lips where Nat's tear-stained cheeks had pressed against his face.

#### Wind

 

The evening before his ship was to sail, Dan took Nat out 'to make a night of it.' New York was the grandest of cities, and for all his wilderness tramping, Dan had kept his city wits about him enough to know exactly where to go and what to do. They had a merry time, untainted by the sort of roughness which Plumfield had taught them both to avoid, and the sharpness of the impending parting lent their festivities an air of solemnity. Afterwards, they walked back to their rooms, smiling reminiscently over shared memories.

 

"And after all, Dan," Nat said eagerly, "I won't be gone all that long. And when I come back we can have a real good frolic before settling down. And if you ever come to Germany, you must stay with me. You'll always have a place to stay with me wherever I am."

 

Dan looked at him with the sort of smile that only Teddy and Mrs Bhaer got from him. "Have you discussed that with Daisy, then?"

 

Nat laughed, a little self-consciously. "Ah, Daisy is..." He smiled a little, embarrassed. "Well, you know, Dan."

 

Dan gave a short laugh, and buried his hands into his pockets. "No, I don't."

 

Nat looked up at his friend, and then looked away. The rest of their walk was in silence.

 

The next morning, though, as they stood on the quay, Dan staring at the steamer with a bitter look on his face, Nat suddenly said softly, "I hadn't realized... how very far away from home I shall be. You've always been the one to go off, Dan, how do you do it? How can you leave like that, knowing everyone will be carrying on without you?"

 

Dan looked at him, the first real open look he had given him since last night, and said, "I come back home. And your home will always be waiting for you, Nat." He continued after an abrupt pause, "Mrs Bhaer and Daisy..."

 

"But that's not really my home is it," Nat cried, "you're like me, Dan, you know what it's like, to have been taken in to a place where you didn't belong. And over there... it will all be different."

 

"I'll come."

 

"What?"

 

"I can come, Nat. I'm not tied down like the rest of them. If you need me, I can come to you."

 

Nat breathed shakily. "Oh, Dan. You're such a dear fellow. I don't know what I'd do without your friendship. You were the first person to care for me, and you've never stopped looking out for me, have you?"

 

Dan laughed. "You don't need me to look out for you, Nat, you will be fine on your own. And I'm sure you'll have a grand time, fiddling away before courts and kings before coming back in a blaze of glory to find Daisy waiting for you like the rosy little woman she is. And Mrs. Bhaer, remember, she'll love you regardless, dear soul. There aren't many like that."

 

A seagull squawked as the whistle blew, and passengers started walking up the gangway.

 

Dan nodded, and smiled, and they shook hands like affectionate brothers, before Nat picked up his valise. "You take care of yourself now, mind" he said, his voice just a trifle deeper than normal. "Blowing every which way your fancy takes you, mind you don't let yourself get knocked so hard that none of us can find you. At least have an address so I can keep writing to you."

 

Dan's face softened. "I think I can manage that, though it might cramp my style a little. Tying me to your apron strings now, are you?"

 

But as he saw Nat's face, he stopped smiling, and when he reached out and pulled him, valise and all, into an impetuous embrace, there was a hardness and tension in his body that left Nat feeling shaken, and strange, and inexplicably warm.

 

"Go on, Nat, you take care of yourself and don't worry about me. I'll go back to Montana, I think. Kansas seems to have lost its charm, and after I've had a good rousing time with my worthy friends, I'll come find Franz and Emil and come look you up at Christmas, how about that?" Dan tried to speak as lightly as he could, but as he glanced down at Nat's white face, his own became more flushed.

 

"That would be lovely, Dan," Nat said simply, as he smiled in farewell. "Nothing could be better than a Christmas in the company of loved ones. We'll have a real gay time."

 

And they did.

#### Air

 

Fire Cloud was restless, and that was a thing that Black Cloud had not often seen in his friend. Octoo danced nervously underneath him, sensing his mood. The mountains were purple with the colour of the setting sun. Black Cloud dismounted and turned to his companion. With a grunt, the white man agreed to the unspoken question, and they began to pitch their tent.

 

Over the fire, Black Cloud observed, "It will be good to return home tomorrow." Fire Cloud nodded absently.

 

"Yes, it will be good, for what man does not welcome the sight of his hut and his sons, no matter how beautiful the land of the hunt may have been?" Black Cloud continued blandly, "Of course, brother, it must be different for you."

 

Fire Cloud scowled. "You know very well that such home as I have, I have with you, so don't play games with me. I admit I have been distracted, but it is merely because I am worried about a friend of mine, whose wife was very sick the last time I had news from them."

 

"Perhaps you can go and visit them," Black Cloud suggested.

 

"Perhaps," Fire Cloud replied.

 

But as it turned out, when they returned to the village, his friend was already there, looking thin and pale, and relieved at the sight of Fire Cloud, who said quietly, "Daisy...?"

 

The white guest shook his head, and then said brokenly, "Oh, Dan, I couldn't stay, all alone in that house with all those memories of her, and Mrs Meg and Mrs Bhaer so kind to me making me feel so guilty for letting it happen, and not being able to stop it or do anything or...." As his voice cracked, Fire Cloud spoke in as gentle and warm a voice as he had ever used with the youngest child of the tribe. "Nat. Hush. It will be alright. And I'm glad you came." He put his arm around his friend and led him to his hut.

 

Black Cloud went on towards his own hut, and as he picked up his youngest son, he told his wife to make sure to take over the warmest deerskin for Fire Cloud's friend. "Will he be staying a long time, do you think?" she wondered.

 

"I expect so," Black Cloud replied calmly, and he smiled at her as he rocked his son to sleep.

 

The moon let her light shimmer that night like a wild maiden dancing.


End file.
